It’s happening again, macabre deja vu.

I have an hour for a bike ride, the amount of time I give myself to break away from the chain attached to my ankle by the landline phone since the death of my father in late April and the medical care needed for my mother. Up to Conway Public Library I pedal for a novel in an attempt to escape the phantasmagorical madness that cloaks my world of late.

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.